Chapter 145: The Wandering Dragon, the Nestling Phoenix

The next day

Su Lin woke up drowsily from his room, instinctively trying to curl up in the quilt and slip into the historical rift, only to realize he was at home—entering deep sleep was simple for a Golden Core Stage cultivator.

He shuffled into the living room in slippers and found his parents already gone.

Since he had informed them in advance that his farming partners would be visiting to tour and experience local customs, they had left early without waiting for him, driving to the rural hometown town to prepare today's village feast with his second aunt and other relatives.

Moments later, Su Lin and several others climbed into a small bread van used by the family's neighborhood grocery for deliveries, its silver-gray body covered in scratches and mud.

"What's with your dark circles? Too excited about a spring outing to sleep?" Su Lin said to the Grey Witch in the rearview mirror, who was nodding off.

"My phone… is too fun…" Yi Leina lifted her head wearily, her head bobbing, "I barely slept these past few days watching manga, then stayed up all night scrolling Douyin."

"Congratulations on integrating into modern society," Xiao Yan said.

"The people on it are pretty interesting," Yi Leina's eyelids were fluttering, "like Wuhu Ma, Painful Monkey, Su Tuoni…"

She fell asleep mid-sentence.

"Can't you get a better car?!" Ye Fan said from the passenger seat, exasperated:

"Not to be flashy, but as the God of Light, you should at least have a brand-new Auto."

"Sir, we recommend a mud truck," Ke Ke Ke Laien said from the middle seat, "randomly pick a lucky passerby and compensate him to join the Tianyi Sect."

"An Auto can't fit this many people," Su Lin said flatly as he turned the key to start the engine.

He could've used a historical projection to summon a car—like Lao Lu's Rolls-Royce from the Dragon Clan world—but the license plate was from Tokyo.

If accidentally checked, it'd be troublesome.

"Mom, let me help you."

"You're here already?" Liu Yumei chopped a freshly boiled sausage and asked Su Lin, "Didn't you go pick up your partners?"

"They'll arrive soon."

Su Lin gazed warmly at his mother, brushing aside a strand of hair falling over her forehead—threaded with gray.

"I brought cigarettes for Dad and Uncle—they won't mind, haha."

"You think he smokes enough already?!" Liu Yumei threw down the cleaver, annoyed.

"Oh, your son is so filial," his second aunt shoved dry firewood and corn cobs into the earthen stove, saying, "Xiao Lin, go check the roadside shop—has your third aunt's husband returned with the spices?"

"I saw him playing Dou Dizhu," Su Lin chuckled.

Another middle-aged woman with a braided ponytail set down the dish she was carrying and stormed out with a scowl.

"See? Your third aunt's husband's getting scolded," his second aunt teased.

Su Lin took the cleaver from his mother and began slicing the sausage—each cut uniform, neither fast nor slow.

"It's not my fault," Su Lin shook his head, smiling; after slicing, he picked up the leanest piece and shoved it into his mouth: "Mmm, haven't tasted this in ages—this is the real flavor."

"What do you mean 'ages'? You ate this last year," Da laughed, entering with a basket of fresh pea shoots on his back.

"One day without it feels like three autumns—this year's been hundreds of years," Su Lin said, then took another piece of cured meat from the pot and placed it on the cutting board to slice.

"Aren't you burned?!" Liu Yumei asked, alarmed by his action.

"It's fine," Su Lin smiled. "The outer layer's already cold."

"Mom, go rest a bit—play a little mahjong with Dad."

A short, dark-skinned middle-aged man walked in, glanced at Su Lin: "Oh, you're here."

"Hello, cousin-in-law." Su Lin greeted.

"Hello, Happy New Year," the cousin-in-law pulled out a red envelope and slipped it into Su Lin's pocket.

"You're still giving him red envelopes?!" Liu Yumei blushed slightly but smiled—after all, she'd given out plenty herself today.

"Take it, take it," the cousin-in-law said generously, walked to a stove, set down the spatula, and poured some rapeseed oil from a bucket into the pot.

"Will we get to eat your squirrel fish today?" Su Lin asked.

"We will!" the cousin-in-law's voice boomed:

"To celebrate you becoming a boss."

The cousin-in-law had once been head chef at a big-city hotel, later went into business, but still retained some skill; back home during New Year's, Su Lin always checked if he'd returned, especially craving his squirrel fish.

"Heh," Su Lin shook his head, "I just grow fruit—what boss?"

"Your fruit isn't ordinary," the cousin-in-law pushed the rapeseed oil around the pot's walls with the spatula; slowly, tiny wisps of smoke rose.

"I ate a few bites and felt instantly refreshed—I've never tasted such sweet, fragrant pears. Your grafted variety will sell like crazy."

"You must treat your partners well today. When your company grows big, maybe help build up the village."

Smoke thickened; the cousin-in-law tossed in scallions, ginger, garlic, and Sichuan peppercorns, releasing a burst of aroma.

"Then find a thousand-mu plot in the village, set up a farming base, hire some villagers—solve employment, raise average incomes."

The cousin-in-law spoke with surprising seriousness, leaving Su Lin stunned; he chuckled awkwardly: "We'll see about that."

He finished slicing the cured meat and turned to chopping more.

"Huh? Your knife skills?" the cousin-in-law glanced over: "Impressive—you must cook often."

"Eh, takeout's unhealthy, so I practiced," Su Lin said.

"You've got the talent of a master chef," the cousin-in-law praised, dumping a plate of pork belly into the pot.

A rich aroma spread through the kitchen.

'There are spirit fruits here,' a voice entered his ear—Luo Shengying.

"Mom, I told you to rest—you won't, so I'm leaving," Future Su Lin set down the cleaver, pretending to walk out.

"Go, go, you're in the way," Liu Yumei scolded playfully, "go play with your phone."

————————

"Name?" A traffic officer in a safety vest parked his motorcycle by the roadside, eyeing the handsome young men and beautiful women stepping out of the bread van through his sunglasses.

"Ye Fan."

"Xiao Yan."

"Zhongli."

"Zhou Mingrui."

"Yi Leina."

"Su Lin." Su Lin handed over his ID card.

"I'm Chu Feng too," chuckled a young traffic officer, covering his mouth.

"Ye Fengchu is here—where's Huang Wolong?"

Ye Fan glanced at the traffic officer strangely. It was normal for someone to know him, but why call him Fengchu?

"The others didn't bring their ID cards—can you recite their ID numbers?" An older traffic officer elbowed his colleague; the body camera was on, mind your image.

"We can't remember them," Kleine shrugged. "Officer, you're checking this strictly during the New Year?"

"Please understand," the middle-aged officer swiped Su Lin's ID through the device, glanced at the information, and returned it. "During the New Year, no one wants to be out."

"Understood."

No. The names you gave are utterly incomprehensible…

The young traffic officer silently thought, while pulling out a pen to fill out the ticket.

【Mud obstructing license plate, speeding…】

————————

Future Su Lin entered the living room, where several children from relatives' families were watching Pleasant Goat and Big Big Wolf; the older ones played Honor of Kings on their phones nearby.

On the central glass coffee table sat a fruit basket filled with peanuts, sunflower seeds, citrus fruits, and other produce.

Luo Shengying sat on a plastic stool, holding a greenish-yellow fruit that resembled a pear.

"It contains spiritual energy."

"By all logic, such plants should barely exist on Earth today."

Future Su Lin examined it, picked up a fruit, and bit into it.

"How much?"

"Many crates," Luo Shengying whispered telepathically. "All brought back by your past self."

Future Su Lin fell silent for a moment, then said: "Interesting."

"He might truly be cultivating."

Many fragmented pieces of information began linking in his mind: the self he could not deduce, the unnaturally swift actions of relevant departments, the inexplicable disappearance of traces, the altered past…

"It seems the changes to the past are greater than I imagined."

Luo Shengying rose and stepped outside, watching the bustling scene in the courtyard, and whispered telepathically:

"Supernatural power should not exist at Earth's current timeline."

"At least not power capable of producing so many spiritual fruits—even if their quality is low."

"Is this due to the destruction of those Cosmic Emperors along the timeline?"

Luo Shengying saw her parents calling her; her body trembled involuntarily. She hesitated, then walked toward the middle-aged men.

"I don't know—maybe, maybe not," Future Su Lin leaned against the doorpost, scanning these familiar or unfamiliar faces, his pupils swirling with seven-colored light. He was more curious about what his past self had become.

"Our world will reach the Central Border in one year. Undoubtedly, nearby worlds may exert some influence, but no one will discover this world—or its uniqueness."

"So, Xiao Ying, you needn't fear."

"Every person here is still themselves."

Luo Shengying gazed toward the courtyard gate.

"What if? What if you're no longer yourself?"

She recalled a scene deep in her memory: streets filled with bizarre races; familiar friends retained their former appearance and aura, yet in true sight had become alien cultivators, writhing monsters, green-skinned beasts…

"Impossible. No one can replace me." Future Su Lin took two steps forward; his form shifted from solid to ethereal and vanished. Those around him noticed nothing, utterly indifferent to the spectacle.

"Because they cannot bear my destiny."

"If they dare come, this time, I will slaughter their world."

"Not a blade of grass left."

A soft whisper reached Luo Shengying's ear, slightly calming her.

Future Su Lin paused, then added: "But for now, we should still proceed cautiously—observe the situation first."

He silently returned inside the doll hanging from Luo Shengying's bag, to avoid drawing unnecessary attention. He had a hunch: those farming partners of his might also be problematic.

——————————

"Why did you change clothes again?" Su Xiangrong paused, cigarette in hand. He'd only stepped outside for air, yet his son had changed outfits again—had the kid just gone to pick someone up?

Su Lin's group, aside from one slightly overweight man, all had handsome faces and distinct auras. One had gray-white hair and blue eyes—like a foreigner—and all were remarkably young.

"I changed this morning," Su Lin said.

"Do as you like…" Su Xiangrong switched to a warm expression and addressed the group. "Didn't expect you all to be so young and accomplished. Hello, I'm Su Lin's father."

After some small talk, Su Xiangrong told them: "Lunch is at one. It's still early. Walk straight down the old street—there's a reservoir ahead where you can fish. From the rural bank, go uphill—you'll find a peach blossom grove. It's a new tourism project developed in the past two years. You might want to see it."

"If you want to rest, come inside and sit. It's full of middle-aged and elderly people playing mahjong by hand, and a bunch of old smokers—smoke's thick inside."

Su Xiangrong feared leaving a bad impression on his son's partners, subtly hinting his son should take them out to play and return for meals.

These people clearly came from big cities. The floor was littered with fruit peels and peanut and sunflower seed shells, and a group of old smokers were puffing on local tobacco—he couldn't even stand the smell, which was why he stepped out.

"It's fine," Zhongli smiled. "This is local culture—worth experiencing."

From his decades of experience navigating the system, Su Xiangrong was now certain: these individuals were either wealthy or noble. His son had somehow struck lucky, hitching a ride on these early-stage entrepreneurs' success.

"Peach blossoms seem beautiful," Yi Leina searched on her phone. "I want to see the peach blossoms."

"Why don't you take your friends for a stroll?" Su Xiangrong said. He needed to clean up before noon.

"Let's go check out the peach blossoms first and set up a fishing spot," Xiao Yan suggested. "We can also grill some fish."

"Sounds good." Zhongli nodded.

"I'm pretty lazy. Is there still an open seat at the card table? I'll go in first and keep the elders company for a few rounds." Miss Kelaien waved his hand.

"These are the local mahjong rules," Su Xiangrong reminded him.

"No problem, no problem."

Seeing this, Su Xiangrong stopped trying to dissuade him, hoping this young man—with a nonlocal accent and a bit of social fat on both his chin and belly—wouldn't lose too badly.

"Su Lin's second aunt's table still needs one more, over by the wall in the main courtyard."

When Su Lin led the group around a corner and saw no one around, he pulled out a historical projection of himself.

"I'll go back and keep an eye on Old Zhou," Su Lin said. "My second aunt's heart isn't in great shape."

End of chapter.